


His Earring

by rahelawriter



Series: For Your Patronage [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Conversations, Drinking, F/M, Falling In Love, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Internal Monologue, Jewelry, Lost Love, Past Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Past Relationship(s), Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Sharing a Bed, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26285794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahelawriter/pseuds/rahelawriter
Summary: Granson invites his erstwhile Virtue Hunting partner, the Warrior of Darkness, to have a drink with him...
Relationships: Granson/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: For Your Patronage [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909909
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	His Earring

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to @lizardtown on Twitter! I loved working on this!

“Something the matter, sinner?”

On a whim, Granson had invited Kalbi to Wright for a pint of ale late one evening; he reckoned that they would have quite a bit to talk about, considering recent events surrounding the starshower and the mysterious warriors that he (and the other Virtue Hunters) had helped her fight off. But the few conversations so far were short and awkward; for the most part, the only thing she had done was quietly drink a decent amount of ale, and when she wasn’t actively drinking, she simply stared at him without a word. And he couldn’t concentrate on his own tankard with the way her lavender eyes were glued to the side of his head. So he put his pint down and asked her directly.

And apparently she’d been oblivious to her staring; sheepishly, she apologized, “Oh, sorry, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… ”

Canting his head, drawing her gaze again, Granson asked, “Just what?”

Kal pointed to the bit of jewelry dangling from the hunter’s ear; purple and yellow gemstones set into dark grey metal with little, intricately-detailed wings on either side, and a white, sword-like attachment hanging off of it. “Your earring…”

Touching his fingertips to the trinket, he asked, “What, you want to take a look?”

She nodded and replied, “If you don’t mind…?”

Carefully undoing the clasp, Granson removed the earring and held it in his palm for Kal to see. With a fond, reminiscent, tiny smile, he explained, “An old nameday present from Milinda; she made it out of palladium, triphane, star spinel…”

“It’s cute…” Kal quietly admired it for a few moments, and then asked, “But you only wear one of them; where’s the other…?”

“Ah…” Granson’s face fell, and he turned away, gesturing with his head out a window facing east. “That’s what’s buried in the grave just outside town. Eaters don’t leave anything behind, so that didn’t leave me with much else by way of options…”

Kal understood immediately, her expression changing to a somber one. “Ah, I’m sorry… I should have realized without you needing to say so…”

“You’re fine, sinner,” Granson reassured his friend with a little half-smile. He closed his eyes and went on, “It’s not as difficult as it used to be, to talk about her…”

Then, he felt a small hand lay itself over his own and squeeze it, and he opened his eyes to find Kal giving him a sad, empathetic look. And he remembered: she’d lost a fiancé, too. She had told him that she’d been engaged to a kind, cheerful elf who had opened his home to her, made her feel safe. She had called the man her soulmate, but unlike Granson, her love was lost not to a sin eater or other mindless beast, but to the cruel and corrupt machinations of a would-be king…

Having remembered that, he looked at her again. He could barely see her lavender irises now for how heavy her eyelids seemed, and her pale cheeks pink and flushed… There was so much in Kal’s life that he didn’t know about or understand, that Granson could scarce imagine the depths of her exhaustion; not merely from the recent business of running around all of Norvrandt, smiting the false Ardbert, saving the world _again…_ After all she’s been through, Kal must have been so tired…

“Yoo-hoo…” And he then felt Kal’s familiar weight leaning on him, as she gave him a wry, yet still tired look. “Granny… You sounded like you were about to keep goin’ and talk more about your earring, but then your mind wandered off…”

… Tired, or just tipsy. Probably both. Either way, she was very much in need of a good, long rest.

Granson put his earring back on before finally getting off of his barstool, and patted Kal on her shoulder. “You know what, it’s late. Let’s get you to a bed.”

A brief exchanging of gil later, they officially had an inn room on the upstairs floor of the tavern. Kal thankfully wasn’t so far gone that she couldn’t even walk unassisted, but Granson still held her steady as they walked up the stairs.

But with the topic of earrings still on his mind, Granson asked, “So, question: how do drahn even wear earrings? I’ve always imagined it’d be a bit difficult, what with the lack of ears; do you pierce the skin right where your horns meet your jaw?”

Kal, having more ale now absorbed into her system in the last few minutes, slurred her words slightly as she spoke. “I dunno, never worn ‘em myself… Maybe some kinda… A-hee-sa? Uh-dee-siv…”

“Adhesive?” Granson offered.

“Yeah, that.”

The conversation carried on in that general manner as Granson gently guided Kal into her room and down onto the bed. He made sure to roll her onto her side, as well; he knew the procedure for helping friends who were deep in their cups. But when he tried to stand back upright, he felt the tight grip of a hand on his wrist. To his surprise, Kal was giving him a pleading look.

And she simply said: “I wanna cuddle.”

“Ah--?” Feeling his face warming, Granson didn’t quite know how to respond. He wasn’t going to leave her alone in here, but he did plan on keeping a respectable distance. But the inn room only had one bed, so he had been resigned to sleeping on the floor. He didn’t mind, but… If Kal was insisting they share a bed, then he might as well oblige her. “I… Fine. I was planning on staying anyway; I wouldn’t be much of a partner if I left you here to drunkenly choke on your own bile.”

Kal, unexpectedly, chuckled at his crude joke, and scooted back so that the small bed had room for him. Which served as his cue to start taking off his armor, removing metal and leather until he was wearing just enough to still be decent, at which point he finally joined Kal on the bed.

With a contented little smile, she cuddled up against him, and sleepily hummed, “You’re a big softy, Granson…”

And Granson could only blush deeper at that, pursing his lips in embarrassment. Because he couldn’t actually _refute_ her assertion. For all the walls he had put around his heart after his loss, Kalbi had managed to pass through them, almost as if it was nothing. He’d been so consumed with thoughts of vengeance that he’d maimed his own face for it, and thought of nothing else for the entire year that followed. He hadn’t been prepared for the notion of letting anyone else in; especially not _this close…_

Despite knowing and having seen firsthand many times how powerful she was… Kalbi was so _tiny_ and _soft_ in his arms as he pulled her in and hugged her against his chest. Heart beating, slow breathing, and so, so warm. And for the first time in a year, but felt like much longer… A sort of soothing calm had washed over him. A calm that both comforted and frightened him…

A year ago, the idea of moving on was beyond unconscionable. And even now, Granson still felt a deep shame gnawing at him for even considering the possibility of a new love. The shame told him that not only would he be utterly betraying Milinda if he ever pursued a relationship with anyone else, but he’d be coercing Kalbi into betraying _her_ deceased love as well…

Even though he knew in his head that neither Milinda and Kal’s elven fiancé wouldn’t want them to wallow in grief for the rest of their lives, he still was unsure: after the loss of a loved one, how long was long enough to mourn them before giving one’s heart to someone else?

… Obviously, the answer was different for every person. But that just made the issue all the more thorny.

Then, Granson happened to move his head, at which point he felt his earring—the one that Milinda had made for him—shift and tug at his earlobe; he’d somehow forgotten to take it off with the rest of his armor. For a long moment, he wasn’t sure what to do.

But eventually, after about a minute of further internal warring within his heart, Granson of the Mournful Blade took a long and deep breath, and exhaled a long, shaky sigh, before… Slowly unclipping the earring, and carefully setting it down on a small table beside the bed he shared with Kalbi, within an arm’s reach.

Near enough to reach. Near enough that he wouldn’t lose or forget it in the morning. But not directly on his person, either.

That was okay, right…?

Granson didn’t know. But he did know that Kal stirred within him feelings both simple and complicated and that he thought he’d never be able to feel again.

He knew he loved her.

And for that, he simply tucked her hair behind her horns, and gently kissed her forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Mao for your generosity! Granson is a big sweetheart and Kal is adorable, I enjoyed writing both of them.
> 
> And if you would like to support my writing, then my twt is @RWilkes94, and be sure to read what I have pinned.


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